In
a war zone existence, delimited
by
snipers, landmines and hostile troops,
Grey
sky reflects in glass houses
and
everyone is throwing stones.
She
carries her mourning
gravely
through the streets
She
finds herself looking out for him
but
every night, she goes home alone.
Hiding
in lofts with sandbags at the door
he
watches war 24 hours on TV
but
at night their minds meet
and
the ghosts of his words sadden her.
Put
them in any two squares of a chessboard
and
they would recognise each other -
but
for now they are lost.
***
I used the prompt from Found Poetry for today's poem. A Cento is a poem made up of lines from other poems, traditionally usually lines from other people's poems, but this prompt suggested using lines from your own poems (you can use one or two lines from each poem, mostly here I've used two lines from each poem). This was quite a tricky exercise and I'm not entirely happy with the result. However I was very happy to read through some of my old poems again with fresh eyes!
